


Haven

by NoblehouseofTargaryen (Captain_Shep)



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen's POV, F/M, Haven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:18:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3560960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Shep/pseuds/NoblehouseofTargaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle of Haven and the loss of the Herald of Andraste told from Cullen's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haven

Cullen watches on desperately as Ellandra’s deep blue eyes harden at Chancellor Roderick’s words, and he knows instantly that she will force them to take the path, to lead the rest of the Inquisition out safely while she runs away again.

He watches as she turns back to the Inner Circle, arguing with Cassandra when she’s told she has to go with the rest of them, she’ll be taking Iron Bull as her warrior. He winces as Ellandra’s voice rises, Cassandra stepping back wide eyed when she yells out. “Cassandra you’re important! I’m expendable; you need to get them to safety!”

Cassandra sputters, not able to reply to her horrific statement. Cullen wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her doubt from her, expelling every horrible thought she’d ever had, every niggling thought that pressed in from around her. She wasn’t expendable at all, not to the people of the Inquisition, as their Herald. Not to him, as Ellandra Trevelyan – a mage, a woman, he’d come to care for.

Ellandra turns back to him, her eyes set, mouth turned into a grim line. Ellandra turns back to him, her eyes set, mouth turned into a grim line. “Cullen, get them to safety, take the path and get as far away from here as you can.” He takes a deep breath, watching her turn to look at the Chantry doors, hearing the near deafening roar of an ancient terror soaring above them, waiting for her to step outside.

“What about you?” he knows from the way that her eyebrows furrow and her fingers flex around her staff she doesn’t believe she’ll be coming back. “Perhaps you’ll find a way, surprise it somehow.” He tries his hardest to reassure her that she’ll live through this, but the way she turns back to him, silent acceptance written through her eyes as she gives him a small, sad smile, tells him that his words were spoken in vain.

She reaches out quickly to touch his arm, lingering longer than she usually, did, before giving him a resolute nod. “Get them out of here Commander.” She nods to him, before turning to Iron Bull, Sera and Dorian, who nod and smile with no happiness, realising that she’ll be going to her death.

“If we are to have a chance, if you are to have a chance…” he pauses, watching as she throws the doors of the Chantry wide open, stepping out into the blizzard caused by the Arch Demons wings, not even flinching as a Red Templar takes a swing at her. “Let that thing hear you.”

The last he’ll see of her is her striking the side of her fist against Dorian’s, before they charge headfirst into a throng of Red Templars, and then her voice calling out loudly. “Over here you blighted bastard!”

He manages a small smile as he hears her taunting the dragon, but he then hears a loud roar and his blood runs cold. It takes Leliana’s strong voice cutting through the chantry to stop him from sprinting out after her and pulling her with them.

She’s strong. He tells himself. She’ll make it.

Later he watches from the top of the cliffs overlooking Haven in horror as the dragon lands before her, watching as her companions are shoved away, told to run for the hills, to save themselves. He cries out as she’s thrown like a limp ragdoll against the hard metal trappings of the trebuchet, rolling to her feet to challenge the Darkspawn Magister.

He’s never seen anything like it in his life, someone so completely selfless, completely resolute in the face of certain death. He can almost imagine he can see the burning of fire in her eyes, sparking blue and crashing together with Corypheus’ red, burning a path through everyone’s life, through his life. In the short time he’d known her, he’d already become a changed man.

Cullen’s eyes narrow as Leliana fires up a flaming arrow, letting Ellandra know they’re safe. He feels Ellandra sigh with relief, feels her heart lift towards them, thanking the Maker that they’ve gotten away.

They all cry out in terror as she kicks the lever, watching as the boulder flies into the rock face, setting off an avalanche that will surely bury Haven. A screaming Dorian is held back by Iron Bull, his strong arms encompassing the Tevinter mage as he screams for his friend, Sera simply sinks to the ground, her head in her hands as she whimpers, whispering over and over that the Magister is a dead Darkspawn. Vivienne and Cassandra remain composed, but there is a quiver in both of their lips as they watch Ellandra sprint across the grounds, trying desperately to get to safety. The rest of them say nothing, simply watching in silent horror as the snow sweeps through, carving a path through the wooden building of Haven, crushing those that haven’t already been reduced to ash by the fire, falling into stacks of splinters as the snow piles high over the source of all their hope.

Somewhere, down there, the Herald of Andraste had given her life for them, had suffered under tonnes of snow and ice, slowly freezing as they watched from above, unable to do anything but stand and watch as she so willingly let her life force seep into the snow around her.

They stand for what seems like hours, listening to the sobs of the townsfolk and soldiers around them, before Leliana raises herself from the ground, turning her back to the rubble that is now Haven, squares her shoulders and begins walking.

The rest of them soon follow, though none are able to stand as tall as Leliana was, as Ellandra did. Cullen is the last to turn from the scene, his eyes still desperately searching for signs of life underneath the snow, waiting for her auburn hair to break through the ice, for her long fingers to raise up into the air and call for them.

No such sign came.

So Cullen turns away, Josephine’s comforting hand at his shoulder as she leads him away, but he cannot stop himself from turning back every so often, hoping beyond all hope that she somehow made it, that the Maker had granted her one last miracle.

He spends their entire walk before setting up camp wishing she’d looked back at him before she’d gone to her death.


End file.
